Change
by oreocheesecakes
Summary: The world has changed so much in the past few months, and so has she. Korra realizes that the people are right—she would never be the same Avatar she was before. Korrasami friendship oneshot written for Korrasami Week Day 4: Change.


**A/N: This started out as an attempt at a Korra's hair fanfic, but then I found out that it was Korrasami Week and one of the themes was ****_exactly _****the title of this fic, so now you have this :)**

**I don't own Avatar: The Legend of Korra.**

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><p>She shakily lifts the scissors, staring at her reflection in the shiny silver.<p>

"Korra, are you sure about this?"Asami's voice says from behind her.

"Very." She bites her lip at how hoarse she sounds, for she hasn't used her voice for anything but crying lately.

"I can do it for you, if you want," Asami offers. Korra meets her green eyes in the mirror, and she sees that they are filled with nothing but concern.

Asami has never left Korra's side ever since she had been put in a wheelchair, always ready to put her back together when she falls apart. She is patient on days Korra just stares out the window and refuses to eat, and hers are the arms that are always ready to catch her when nightmares come and the young Avatar collapses into sobs. Her comforting voice keeps Korra going, as well as her daily assurance of recovery.

She tries to smile for Asami, but she can see that her friend knows it's fake. There are times Asami can't hide the frustration, and seeing her selfless friend like that is like a blow to the chest. But Korra can't do anything about it—everything Asami does for her is incredibly helpful as it is frustrating. Even if she knows she needs it, the endless assistance being given to her makes her feel helpless. Worthless.

And she hates feeling worthless.

Though she has been sheltered most of her life, she has never felt incapable or unneeded—only restrained. She had been told as a child that she was a bending prodigy, even for Avatar standards, and the importance of her role had always been known to her. But her hallucinations, the past weeks, and everything that Zaheer had told her—they echo in her head, telling her otherwise.

She needs something—real, solid proof that she isn't what the voices in her head tell her she is. She wants something different, something that would break the monotonous cycle that had been going on for the past weeks. She needs something new but feasible in her current state, something that would remind her that she could _do _things and make a difference on her own, no matter how small.

And this is the only thing she could think of.

"It's all right, Asami," she says, her voice barely louder than a whisper. "This is something I have to do myself."

She looks directly at the mirror in front of her, seeing the bags under her cerulean eyes and her slightly discolored skin. Even she can see that she is exhausted, weak—but that is the very thing that strengthens her resolve.

She slowly moves the scissors until they are positioned an inch above her chin. She takes a deep breath, squeezes her eyes shut, and cuts.

_Snip._

She opens her eyes again to see brown hair falling to the floor, and for the first time in days, a smile comes to her face. Asami gasps behind her, obviously seeing it. Granted, it's small smile, but it's a start.

_Snip. Snip. Snip._

The scissors make their way around the back of her head, and although giving herself a haircut is rather tricky business, every strand of hair she loses makes her feel lighter, freer. Like she is severing any rope that ties her to what has happened in the past month. Cutting her hair feels refreshing, liberating—and that is exactly what she needs at the moment.

_Snip._

She cuts off the last bit with more sureness than before, and she stares at her reflection in the mirror.

It isn't a perfect cut, but it doesn't look bad. She lifts a hand to the back of her neck, feeling the unusual shortness of her hair. Her dark locks now fall barely past her shoulder, but it still frames that same gaunt face.

She tries to swallow the tears building up at the back of her throat. Why had she ever thought that a something as superficial as a haircut would help her in any way?

_She's not the same Korra she used to be._

_I doubt if she'll make a full recovery from this._

The whispers people thought she couldn't hear echo in her mind, making her tremble. All she wants to do is go back to the way she was before the Red Lotus, and the only thing her haircut has done is change things even more.

"Short hair looks good on you," Asami's gentle voice pulls her back to reality, and she feels a hand being placed on her shoulder. Not having heard her approaching footsteps, Korra jumps a little, but looks up at her friend's smiling face nonetheless. "It's a nice change."

Korra lets the words sink in, glancing back at the mirror. And that's when she notices it—she _has _changed, but not in the way she was already familiar with.

Maybe it's the look in her eyes, or the new seriousness in her expression, but something about her looks wiser. More mature. Braver. Tougher. She isn't sure how she missed it before, but suddenly, it is all she can see.

_When we hit our lowest point, we are open to the greatest change_, Aang's voice echoes in her head. The characteristics she sees now were brutally earned, but she wouldn't have them otherwise.

The world has changed so much in the past few months, and so has she. Korra realizes that the people are right—she would never be the same Avatar she was before.

But maybe that's a good thing.

"Thanks, Asami," she says, granting the engineer another rare smile. "I guess change _can_ be nice."

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><p><strong>I pretty much jumped on the bandwagon for the Korra's hair fanfic thing, but I hope you liked my take on it! :)<strong>


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